


Baby, It's Cold Inside

by orphan_account



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, Explicit Language, F/M, Family, Holidays, Humor, One Shot, One True Pairing, Oral Sex, Parenthood, Romance, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 10:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob tries to figure out what's wrong with Bella while they prepare for Christmas on the rez with their 2-year-old. AU, obvs. 100 percent holiday fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Inside

**Author's Note:**

> Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

  
Bella was _pissed._

Jacob knew the signs, for all that they were rarely evidenced: lips pressed together in a straight line, dishes put away with unnecessary vigor, car door slammed (on her own fingers, twice), instantaneous turning away from a casual hand on her shoulder… It was all right there in front of him, telling him as clearly as if she'd screamed (she never screamed) that he'd screwed up in a major, major way.

He just couldn't figure out what he'd _done._ One morning he had been serving her breakfast in bed (all three of them had just recovered from the stomach flu, even though Ephraim had gotten the shot this year over Jacob's protests—he hated to see their little man cry) while she teased him about breaking the yolks in the "over easy" eggs and Ephraim did his best to eat all of her food… and the next morning she had gone to work at the Forks library with two crimson circles high on her cheeks, not even bothering to say goodbye before she backed out of the driveway with uncharacteristic speed.

Usually she took pity on him and let him know what was wrong within a couple of hours, and usually by text because she was still allergic to confrontation even at twenty-nine. It had been two weeks.

Jacob checked his phone for the twentieth time in three hours, and sighed. Still nothing. This was ridiculous; he was turning into the Quileute guy version of Bridget Jones (Bella had forced him to watch the movie even though she said the book was better), and he was _married_ , for God's sake.

"Bella still being bitchy?" Quil asked from where he slouched at his desk against the garage wall, cleaning up the books from last month and trying, just like always, to work his money magic enough to keep the business afloat. It was touch-and-go from day to day, but things were slowly becoming more black than red.

Jacob glared at him from under the hood of the Camry that needed its air filter replaced. "Don't talk about her that way, jackass." He reached for a wrench and then added, "And yes."

"That's weird, man. Did you forget one of E-man's doctor appointments? Leave the motorcycle on the front porch again? Oh, I know, Kim always says the thing that pisses her off the most is when Jared walks out of his clothes and just leaves 'em on the floor in their bedroom when they've got a laundry basket. Did you do that?"

Jacob shook his head incredulously at him. "Just because the main female in your life is still mostly worried about whether or not her mom will let her wear mascara _and_ lip gloss to school today doesn't mean you get to offer advice to the rest of us, Quil. I didn't do any of that shit and even if I did, she wouldn't stay mad. Well, except for the motorcycle thing. She was pretty pissed about that." He lifted the old air filter out and added, "But it was just because we were having Sam and Emily over that night and she always feels like Emily's winning."

Quil looked away from his monitor long enough to direct a _what the hell?_ look across the garage. "Winning at what?"

"You know. _Winning._ It's a girl thing. They _say_ they only care about impressing us but they're really way more worried about impressing the other girls they know. Emily's a kick-ass housewife even with three kids, and Bella knows it, so when I screwed up the house right before Bella had her over it was like I hamstrung the quarterback before the playoffs. Especially since we just have one two-year-old."

Quil was silent for a minute, and then offered, "Tiffany told Claire that her new jeans made her look really _healthy_ last week and Claire cried for two days."

"Nah, that's not about winning, that's just about junior high fuckery." Jacob's cell rang; he didn't bother getting excited because it was his dad's ringtone. "What's up, dad?" he answered. For a second, he didn't understand what he was hearing, and then he managed to decipher the sound: Billy was howling with laughter, so hard that he could barely breathe. "Are you okay?"

"Your wife…" his dad gasped, "Is going… to _kill_ me." He went into another tear of howling.

"Why? Oh, shit. Did E-man get into something?"

"That's one way… to put it…" Billy whimpered. "You might want to come over and see this."

Ten minutes later, Jacob tried to lift his jaw back off of his chest and failed. "Holy shit, Dad, how long were you in the bathroom?"

"Hoh-wee s'it!" Ephraim chirped with glee, wriggling in Jacob's arms as his father examined his skin.

One entire leg and most of the corresponding arm had been covered in black permanent marker.

"Not that long!" Billy said defensively, but his eyes shifted sideways. Jacob followed his line of sight to where a Nintendo DS lay on the kitchen counter.

"Are you fu—freaking kidding me? I'm gonna get Rachel for giving you that thing. She'd better not be planning to give you any more games for Christmas. Dammit, look at him, Dad, he's a mess. Buddy, why on earth did you decide to color yourself with the marker?"

Ephraim stopped wiggling long enough to bury his (sticky) hands in the hair that had fallen out of Jacob's ponytail. "Wanted to be L'il Bill, Daddy."

" _What?_ " Jacob gasped. Billy was howling again. Jacob bit his cheeks to try to keep his face serious while he said, "Little Bill was born that color, E. You can't make yourself the same way with the marker. It doesn't work like that."

Ephraim shook his head solemnly, big brown eyes shining. "I not using the marker anymore. Grandpa take it away. No Li'l Bill."

If Jacob didn't know better, he would have believed his words were actually sinking in. He did know better, though, so he just sighed and said, "Let's get you home before Mommy sees this. And then we're calling Auntie Kim and telling her she's never, ever allowed to get sick again, okay?"

"'Kay!" Ephraim yelled, right into Jacob's ear, making him flinch. Werewolf hearing wasn't always a bonus with a small child.

The instant Jacob opened their front door, Ephraim dove out of his arms and raced to the Christmas tree. "Want lights!" Obediently, Jacob picked up the extension cord and turned to plug it in. Just as he saw the room brighten, he heard a "Pway ball!" and a tinkling smash.

When he whirled back, Ephraim was staring at the shattered remnants of one of the ball ornaments in the corner, lower lip (identical to his mother's) trembling. "The ball broke, Daddy." Tears pooled in his eyes.

"Buddy, that's not a ball. Mommy told you that. It's a decoration for the tree. If you throw the decoration, it breaks and the tree isn't pretty anymore." Jacob picked him up, surveying the damage. "I think you should get in the tub while I clean this up. The last thing you need is another owie."

He ran the bath and put Ephraim in, then, leaving the bathroom door open so he could hear any frantic splashing or thuds, started sweeping up the glass fragments. When he dumped the dustpan into the trash, his phone rang again, but this time it was Bella.

"Hey, Bells!"

"Hey. You didn't text me this morning so I wanted to be sure everything's okay. I'm just going to eat lunch here," she said, and his shoulders slumped. She was still mad.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just hanging with the E-man," he said, and realized too late what he'd admitted.

"Why isn't he at your dad's? I thought Billy was going to watch him. Don't you have work?"

"Oh, you know…" Jacob said vaguely, trying to come up with something convincing. "I just thought he'd take his nap better at our place."

"Jake. What did he do?"

"Yeah, it's funny, actually. He said he wanted to look like Little Bill, so he found a black marker and kind of… darkened himself. A little." Jacob winced, waiting.

"And what was your dad doing this whole time?"

"C'mon, Bells, he's an old guy in a wheelchair. We can't expect him to be as on the ball as Kim."

"Translation: he was either watching ESPN2 or playing that damn DS. I'm going to _get_ Rachel for giving him that thing. I swear I haven't had eye contact with the man since his birthday party, and that was just because he was mad at me for using Splenda in the cake." Bella sighed. "Is E asleep now?"

"No, he's in the… bathtub…" Jacob closed his eyes.

"And you're where?"

"The kitchen," he admitted gloomily.

"Jake, please for the love of God tell me that you put my new body wash out of reach before you left him in there."

"Of course… not."

A heavy sigh. "It was seventeen dollars."

"Holy hell, Bells, what were you—no, you know, I'm sorry, I didn't say that, I didn't mean—"

"I'll see you after work." _Beep beep beep._

"Sus' a waht of bubboo trubboo in a bibboo bubboo way…" Ephraim caroled, accompanied by the sounds of enthusiastic sloshing. Jacob winced again. If he was quoting _Bubble Trouble…_

When he got to the door, he had to brace himself against the frame, big bad werewolf or not. A mountain of bubbles that came halfway up to the showerhead had buried his son in a soapy avalanche. Half the contents of the bathtub had splashed out onto the floor, soaking all of the mats—why the hell did they have to have a rug around the toilet base? It made _no sense_ —plus a roll of toilet paper that had somehow ended up off the dispenser, and he could see from one little arm that waved in his direction that the damn marker was still embedded in Ephraim's skin.

"Daddy!" A sunny grin dawned as Ephraim caught sight of him. "I being a good boy! I sitting down, see?"

That made him snort with laughter. "Yeah, buddy. I see. You having fun with Mommy's soap?" He walked to the edge of the tub and crouched down, ruffling the black mop of hair.

"I smell pretty! Like her."

"Well, not _quite_ as pretty." Jake's thoughts wandered at the thought of that scent… twelve years later and it still made him crazy. Of course, that might also be two weeks of celibacy making him crazy; it was really weird, they never went longer than five days and that was only when she had her period… He focused back to see Ephraim waiting for elaboration. "Maybe you smell handsome. Here, let's scrub you with the washcloth and see if any of this mess comes off."

It came off a little—not nearly enough—but Jake didn't want to hurt the little guy so he gave up when the skin started to redden underneath the stain. He got him into a clean outfit, put him into his crib, and croaked out the demanded lullabies, for which effort he was thanked with a pouty, "Mommy does 'Hus' Li'l Baby' better, Daddy." After he was semi-convinced that Ephraim was on his way to sleep, he mopped up the water, rinsed out the soap scum, gathered up the bathmats and started a load of towels with them, and then called Billy to come over and watch TV in close enough proximity to hear when his grandson woke up.

"Call me as soon as you hear him," Jacob ordered on his way out the door. "I don't need to explain another disaster to Bella today. She's pissed enough as it is."

When he got back to the garage, Embry was sitting on the edge of Quil's desk waiting for him. "Where've you been?"

"Ephraim," Jake replied shortly; the one-word explanation covered everything a childfree bachelor would want to know anyway. "What's up?"

"Are you guys coming to Sam and Emily's Christmas Eve party tomorrow?"

"Did you finish up this air filter for me?" Jacob demanded, glancing under the hood of the Camry.

"Yeah, you were mostly done anyway." Embry shrugged. "So, Christmas Eve party?"

"Probably, if we can find a sitter who won't end up letting our kid kill himself by accident. My dad's out for now, so… Why?"

"Because last year Bella made those awesome cinnamon rolls, the ones with the icing?"

"Ooh, yeah," Jake breathed, transported back to the moment. He shook himself out of it, leaning to inspect Embry's work. "You want me to ask her to make them again?"

"Yeah. I swear those things gave me a hard-on for the rest of the night. Good thing my date thought it was her."

Jacob snorted and slammed the hood down. "What was her name again?"

Embry frowned. "Kara? No, that was Thanksgiving. Um. Um. Oh yeah, Allison!"

"Allison, yeah. She dumped you before New Year's. Maybe you didn't convince her the wood was because of her after all."

"She didn't _dump_ me," Embry informed him loftily. "She just got a little mad when I wouldn't ask Quil to go on a date with us."

"Like, a double date? Did you tell her he's not interested in sex, at all, for the next five years at least?"

"I tried, but I think she thought that Quil and I were, you know, _together_ , and she wanted to get a three-way going."

Jacob started laughing so hard he bent over double.

" _What the hell?"_ Quil demanded, choosing that moment to walk back into the garage. "How was this going to go? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I was afraid you'd be up for it!" Embry answered, grinning. "There's no way I want to see your junk any more than I already do with phasing."

"Yeah, you might want to ask Bella yourself about the cinnamon rolls," Jacob said when he could talk again. "She's not happy with me lately."

"Did you leave the motorcycle on the front porch _again_?" Embry demanded.

Jacob threw a socket wrench at his head, but Quil caught it. "So, was I gonna be backside or boobside in this thing?" he asked, turning to Embry.

"Dude, we were _both_ gonna be—"

Jacob groaned and shoved his iPod headphones into his ears.

**( * * * )**

When he got home that night, Bella had already started on supper: chicken tetrazzini, his least favorite in her repertoire. Jacob sighed as the telltale smells hit his nose; she was going to add sesame seeds, too, even though she knew the tiny things drove him crazy because they always got stuck in his teeth. What. The. Hell.

"How's little man?" he asked, dropping a kiss on the back of her neck at the spot that always made her shiver.

She didn't this time. "Piebald."

Jacob wasn't sure what that word meant, but he figured he could Google it later. It wasn't worth asking about. "Did Dad go home?"

"Oh, yeah, I came home early," she said grimly. "Did he spank Ephraim when he caught him with that marker? Because it's not E's fault, really, he's only two and if Billy's dumb enough to leave a Sharpie lying around where he can get it and then just lock himself into the bathroom with his video games then I don't seewhyhegetsto—" She speeded up with every word until she turned pink and the sentence turned into a blur.

"Bells!" Jacob interrupted before she passed out from lack of oxygen. "Of course he didn't. He thought it was hilarious; he was laughing his ass off when I called."

"Good." She chopped down on the chicken with unnecessary force. "Because, you know, he did say that one time—"

"Bells, E-man had just deleted his entire documents file on his hard drive and thrown his phone into a pitcher of iced tea. He kind of spoke in the heat of the moment; maybe we can _not_ hold it against him?"

"Fine. Would you go check on E, please? When I left, he was watching Diego, but…"

"Yeah, but." Jacob kissed the top of her head and ambled into the living room. "Hey, buddy!"

" _Daddy!_ " Ephraim flung himself at Jacob's knees. Jacob grinned as he picked his son up. This was maybe the best part of the parenting gig: the unadulterated delight the little guy displayed every time he showed up, no matter how brief his absence. "I watching Diego and I finding the Rescue Pack!"

"You finding… Oh, hell." Jacob surveyed the shreds of wrapping paper and the half-exposed Rescue Pack with a sinking heart.

"Hell!" Ephraim chirped with a happy grin.

"That's where Daddy's going if I don't fix this before Mommy sees," Jacob whispered.

"'Kay," Ephraim whispered back. "Don't go, Daddy."

"Yeah, let's do what we can to prevent that. I'm going to pick up this trash, and then we're going to go to your bedroom and re-wrap this present, okay?"

"I get to open it again!"

"Sssshhh," Jacob hissed with a nervous glance at the kitchen door. "Yeah, you get to open it again, but not until later, okay?"

"'Kay," Ephraim whispered once more.

Jacob crumpled all of the wrapping paper he could find into a teeny, tiny ball—werewolf strength coming to his trash-compacting rescue, although he didn't think Taha Aki really would have approved—and then they sneaked together into Ephraim's room. Jacob re-wrapped the present and then spent the rest of the time before dinner reading _Bubble Trouble_ over, and over… and over again.

After dinner, Bella gave Ephraim another bath—he pretty much needed one after every meal—and persuaded him to read a different story while Jacob cleaned up the kitchen. He was just wiping the last pan dry when she came back into the room, frowning.

"Did E unwrap one of his presents?" she wanted to know. "I found this on the floor in the living room." She held out her hand to show the one piece of paper he must have overlooked in his hurry.

Shit. "Is anything missing from the pile?" he asked, looking intently at the pan and scraping an invisible food particle with his thumbnail.

"No…" She shrugged and threw the paper into the trash.

"Hey, Embry came by today and he was wondering if you maybe—"

Bella's phone rang and cut him off. She held up one finger. "Just a sec." Hitting the button, she said, "Hey, Mom. No, it's fine, I just—" She looked at Jacob. "You know what? Hold on." She put on her jacket, hanging on the back of a chair, grabbed her keys, and walked outside to her car, getting inside but not starting the engine.

Mystified, Jacob walked to the front door and looked at her through the glass.

Bella met his gaze through the windshield and sighed. _"You can still hear me, can't you?"_ she asked.

Guiltily, he nodded.

" _I have to go to the store. I'll be back."_

Jacob watched her pull out, and then collapsed on the couch and flipped on the TV, skipping through channels until he found an _Archer_ episode he hadn't seen yet. He texted Bella's phone: _Em wnts cinn rolls; if u wnt 2 mk thm get stuff now._ He hoped she could decode that; normally she hated text speak but he was too angry to bother spelling everything out for her at the moment.

When she got back an hour later, her eyes were red and her breathing hitched in her throat the way it always did when she'd been crying. Jacob jumped up to help her carry the groceries inside, but she just ignored him and swung the bags up onto the table by herself. He stood a few feet away and watched her put the food into the cabinets and fridge. She kept her back to him as much as possible.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally.

"I'm fine. Just tired. I'm going to go to bed. I'll make the cinnamon rolls tomorrow; they take four hours and… I'm going to bed." Bella rubbed her palms on her jeans and made to walk past him on her way to their bedroom.

He caught her arm as she walked by. "Hey." When she looked up, he pushed her hair back from her face with his free hand and smiled down at her. "I love you."

She gave him the first genuine smile of the day and slid her arms around his neck, sending him the little hop signal that meant she wanted him to pick her up so she didn't drag him down. Obediently, he lifted her to his level and kissed her. He meant it just as a _goodnight,_ but she turned it into an _oh, hello,_ opening her mouth under his and practically inhaling him, all teeth and tongue and cool little hands buried in his hair, pushing him into her. Jacob made an _mmph_ sound and yanked her up tighter against him, trying to figure out if he should carry her to the bedroom or if she'd be up for the kitchen table again, God, _two weeks,_ it felt like _forever,_ but just as he got to the point where he was thinking, _fuck it, there's a perfectly good wall right here,_ she loosened her grip and pulled her mouth away and whispered, "Goodnight."

"Okay," he whispered back, pretty sure that was the wrong response, but unable to come up with the right one.

The next morning was so dark and rainy that Jacob didn't wake up until nearly nine, which counted as sleeping in since their son had been born. When he cracked open one eye, he saw that Bella was long gone. He could hear her talking to Ephraim in the kitchen, Christmas songs from the CD player underlying their conversation.

" _So then we take off Mommy's ring—"_

" _I can wear the ring!"_

" _No-o, this is Mommy's special ring, so I'm going to put it up here on the windowsill. And then we take all the dough and make it into a ball—"_

" _I throw the ball."_

" _This is a different ball. This one is a dough ball, so we don't throw it, we knead it. Here, give me your hands. Put them in the ball, like this. How does that feel?"_

_A giggle. "It's sticky, Mommy."_

" _It is? Uh-oh, better sprinkle more flour, flour helper! Here's your measuring cup—sprinkle it just like you showed me before. Good job!"_

" _Now you push it?"_

" _Yes, now I push it for a long time, and fold it too. That's called kneading. After this is done, we have to put it into a bowl and let it rest for a while."_

" _It's takin' a nap."_

" _That's right; it needs rest time just like you."_

" _I not sleepy now."_

" _Oh, no. You're never sleepy. I know that."_

Jacob smiled into his pillow. He loved hearing them interact; Bella was such a good mom, even though she always worried she was doing it wrong.

He got up and showered; once he was done he joined the other two in the kitchen. "Good morning, family," he said, smiling at them both.

They both smiled back. "Daddy, we making cinn'mon rolls for Uncle Em!" Ephraim explained.

Things went okay for the rest of the day; Bella wasn't overly smiley, but she wasn't shying away from him anymore, and when he got Sue to agree to come up and take care of Ephraim she gave him a big hug and kiss. Jacob dared to think that maybe things were getting back to normal, until she mentioned that she had a few more presents she needed to wrap, and he thoughtlessly bragged, "I don't have anything left; your gift's not the sort of thing I can wrap, so—"

"My gift?" she interrupted, turning away from the bathroom mirror where she'd been trying to fix her hair in some sort of complicated twist.

Instantly, he realized his misstep, but it was too late now so he tried to bluff it out. "Yeah. Of course your gift."

"I thought we said no gifts for each other this year," she said, voice going tight. "I'm sure we said that, Jake."

"Sure, sure, we said that, but that just means 'no gifts that we spent money on,' right?" he pleaded, trying the wide-eyed innocent look that got Ephraim pretty much anything he wanted.

Apparently the effectiveness of the look expired after a certain age. "If that's what it meant, then that's what we should have _said_!" she exclaimed, slamming her brush down on the sink and glaring. "Honestly, Jake, you know I'm not good with my hands like you are, I can't just _make_ something…" She trailed off and turned her gaze to the floor, biting her lower lip.

Jake wanted to make a comment about how she actually had gotten _really_ good with her hands over the years, but he knew that would fly as well as a lead balloon at the moment, so instead he said, "I'm sorry, honey. I should have been more clear."

"It's fine," she said dismissively, in the tone that meant it was the opposite, and muttered, "Fuck this," about her hair, opting instead to shove a few rhinestone bobby pins in to hold it away from her face.

Bella almost never said "fuck," and when she did it was usually in bed while begging for him to do exactly that. Jacob frowned as he tied his shoes, but he knew this wasn't a good time to push for an explanation.

The Christmas party was awkward for both of them, but it didn't seem like anyone noticed. Bella stayed on one end of the room with Kim, Emily, Leah, and the other women, while Jacob and the rest of the pack stuck close to the food tables. Everyone else appeared to be having the time of their lives, the cinnamon rolls disappeared within minutes, and Quil and Embry's rendition of "Baby, It's Cold Outside," brought down the house.

On their way home, Jake said quietly, "You're not wearing your wedding ring."

"Oh." Bella looked at her left hand in surprise. "I must have forgotten to put it back on after I kneaded the cinnamon roll dough. I'll put it back on as soon as we get home."

Sue only had good things to say about her time with Ephraim—of _course_ he'd been a perfect angel, they were doing _such_ a good job with him, and on and on, which made Bella beam with gratification and Jacob roll his eyes behind their backs. When she left, they checked on Ephraim—still sleeping—and then got ready for bed in silence. They lay next to each other without really touching; finally, Jacob fell into a restless sleep.

He awoke a few hours later to the sound of sniffling and jagged breathing. For a confused second, he thought that Ephraim had somehow managed to circumnavigate the net they had put over his crib to prevent climb-outs, and that he was now in bed with them. After he woke up a little bit more, he realized that the sounds were coming from Bella.

She was lying on her side, curled away from him; he scooted closer and wrapped himself around her, kissing her hair and sliding his lower arm beneath her head. She reached to hug the arm he threw around her stomach more tightly against her, and angled her rear to press against him there, too, but she kept on crying as quietly as she could. After she managed to pull herself back together a little bit, Jacob kissed her hair again and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" He'd learned years ago that Charlie's daughter couldn't be pushed too much before shutting down altogether, and he was a little more patient now than he'd been as a teenager.

She shook her head against his arm. "Can't. Later."

He sighed. "Okay."

They lay in the dark together, and breathed.

A few minutes later, Jacob realized that the pressure of her ass against him was making him hard, and if he didn't want to spend the rest of the night tossing and turning with blue balls he'd better back off now. So he kissed her one last time and said, "Try and get some sleep, honey," before rolling onto his back.

Bella rolled with him. And then she pulled off her ancient Forks Diner t-shirt, and he was wide awake.

"Hey," he managed to get out, one delighted syllable before she put her arms on either side of his head and kissed his mouth, forcing his lips apart with that sweet little tongue and going for his tonsils in one fell swoop. He made an indeterminate sound and reached to hang onto her, to run his hands all over that silky soft Bella-skin, but she rose up to capture his hands with her own and press them back down against the mattress. She loved being in charge, or the illusion of it anyway—the contradiction between his size and strength and the power she held over him was a never-ending turn-on to her, or so she'd told him—so he let her pin him down and do whatever she wanted, and what she wanted was to work her teeth and tongue up and down his neck, especially at that one spot near his shoulder that made him shudder and sigh, and then she wanted to head down to his nipples, tugging and licking until he moaned, and then she wanted to move down to his stomach, with a quick lick in his bellybutton, and then— _oh fuck yes._

She shoved his shorts down; he kicked them off the rest of the way and watched as she knelt between his legs and gently stroked his erection, then lowered her face and rubbed her cheek against it too. Little tease.

"Bells," he breathed, not sure if he was telling her or asking her something.

She flicked her gaze up to meet his from under her lashes, one corner of her lips pulling up—oh, she knew exactly what she was doing, she could be so mean sometimes, but only in the best way—and then she must have decided to take pity on him, because she licked him from base to tip in one smooth motion. He flinched. "Gah!"

"'Gah?'" she queried with mock concern, lifting her head away. "Does that mean 'stop'?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "It means _holy shit,_ _don't stop,_ honey."

She giggled, and he barely had time to think about how adorable that sound still was, because this time she decided to take him into her mouth, and he knew he was hot but when she did this she felt hotter, all that soft wet heat sliding up and down, surrounding him. She'd learned a lot, or taught herself a lot—one thing about librarians, they loved to research _everything_ —since their first time doing this in the cab of that beat-up truck of hers.

He was incapacitated pretty much immediately, clutching at her hair, desperately trying to remember to _not_ to shove himself down her throat because she hated that; on the other hand, she loved to feel his hands on her, because then she could tell when he was close to losing it, so he had to keep them there. And the hair he didn't hold back was brushing along the tops of his thighs as she licked and sucked, and her tongue was swirling around the top and then after a few minutes she did that thing with her teeth, just barely grazing the underside of him... She knew, she had to know, that it made him absolutely insane, but he gasped out a warning anyway: "Bells, I'm gonna—"

"So go ahead," she said with a smug smile, and re-fastened her lips on him so tightly that he grunted with almost-pain. She slid down all the way one last time, moved the hand she'd been balancing on to gently cup his balls, moaning against him, and _that_ sent him over the edge; he gritted his teeth against the words he wanted to shout as he convulsed into her mouth, too much of a parent to want to risk waking Ephraim even now.

The effort of being quiet practically made his jaw lock; he collapsed with a strangled, " _Fuck._ " She licked her lips, angled her body up and over his, still smug, and kissed his neck. He shivered, wrapping his arms around her. "Now you."

"No, it's okay, I'm good," she whispered, reaching to grab her shirt and pull it back over her head before snuggling down next to him.

"Way, way better than 'good,'" he argued a little, his eyes already drifting closed. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I promise."

He was almost asleep when she said in a small voice, "Jake?"

"Mm?"

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch lately."

"Not a bitch," he denied, but his lips almost wouldn't move.

A breath of laughter on his chest. "Yeah, right. Go to sleep."

**( * * * )**

The next morning saw Ephraim awake and ecstatic even earlier than they had expected: they ordered and threatened enough to get a reprieve until six, but after that they surrendered to the inevitable and dragged their asses out of bed. After a few minutes, they were able to enjoy themselves; his uninhibited delight in everything, including the wrapping paper and bows, made the effort worthwhile, and it was fun to snap pictures with the massive pile of opened gifts stacked up behind him. They blasted Christmas carols and tried to keep him from eating too many candy canes out of his stocking, but every time they turned around he had stuffed more sugar into his mouth.

All the excitement proved to be too much for him; he suffered an epic meltdown around eleven and started head-butting everything in sight, including Bella, so he went to his crib and passed out almost immediately. Bella came out of his bedroom with big eyes, breathing a sigh of relief.

Jake looked up from the trash bag he'd grabbed for all the wrapping paper. "Is he down?"

"Oh yeah. We won't hear from him for a while." She stood in front of him, wringing her hands a little. "Um. So. Gifts?"

He laughed and pulled her into a hug, dropping the bag on the floor. "Don't look so scared, Bells." He pulled away and led her to the couch. When she was sitting in his lap, he held both of her hands and said, "It's this: I'm giving up phasing."

She gasped. "Are you serious? But… what about the pack? Who'll take over?"

"Jared." She looked surprised, but he explained, "I know he's not the first candidate to come to mind, but he's perfect. He's laid back, but he's stubborn enough to insist on the important stuff. Everyone respects him, but he won't abuse the Alpha authority. And honestly, it's been a year since the last time we saw a vampire. I think we'll be fine regardless. So… What do you think?"

Bella flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. "It's _perfect;_ I _love_ it," she whispered, peppering his face with kisses.

"It's okay if you didn't get me anything; I know I kind of sprang it on you yesterday and you weren't prepared, so—" Jacob stopped when she shook her head.

"No, I have something. Hold on." She leaped up from his lap and ran into their bathroom. He heard rustling sounds. She came out holding a jewelry box, necklace sized.

"Did you get me a pretty necklace?" he teased, reaching to take it from her.

She rolled her eyes, but he could hear her heart about to pound through her chest. "Very funny. Um. Open the damn thing."

He obediently lifted the lid, and stared. It took a moment for him to realize what he was seeing, but then the sense of it sank in: white stick. Window. Two lines. Positive. "Holy… shit…" he breathed, staring at it.

"Turns out… I can make something for you after all," she said. He glanced up to see her biting her lip, waiting for his reaction.

Jacob started laughing, and he couldn't stop. He leaped to his feet and swung her around in a circle; she clutched at his shoulders and squealed, but she was laughing too. "This is so great! How long have you known?"

"Two weeks," she whispered.

Jake froze, and slowly lowered her to the ground. "Is that what's been wrong? Bells… Honey… You didn't want this?"

She buried her face in his chest. When she spoke, her voice was muffled but he could still understand her. "I was on the pill, Jake, you _know_ that. It was a total shock! I'm such a moron; I had that sinus infection a few weeks back, and I didn't even think about the damn antibiotics and how they cancel it out. So when I started feeling sick, I thought it was just that I had the flu worse than you two… And then I figured it out and felt so dumb. You're just now turning a profit—sometimes—with the garage, and my student loans aren't even close to being paid off, and Ephraim's been such a… challenge lately. It's scary, that's all."

"Ephraim's been a pain in the ass," Jake said bluntly. She snorted out a laugh. "I don't care; he's awesome. And, yeah, money's tight. It was tight before we had E-man, too. We're never going to have enough money for another baby until the baby gets here; that's just the way it is for most people. It'll be fine. We'll make it."

Bella lifted her face. She was flushed, and her eyes were too bright. "So… you're not upset?"

"Do I _look_ upset?" he demanded. She shook her head no. "So I'm not. You know I can't fake anything with you, honey."

"Oh." She thought about that for a moment, and then her face lit up. "Okay. Good."

Jake lowered himself to his knees in front of her and unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of her shirt. He rested his hands on Bella's hips and gently kissed the exposed skin of her belly. "Hey, baby," he whispered. "I'm so glad you're here."

He rested his cheek against her, listening to see if he could hear the heartbeat yet—not quite, it would probably be another month. Bella lowered her hands to bury her fingers in his hair. She made that one particular sound he loved—kind of a giggle-sigh—and Jacob knew that everything was okay now, because Bella only made that noise when she was _thrilled._

"Merry Christmas," she said softly, mindful of the volume of her voice next to his ear.

"Merry Christmas, honey," he said, and kissed her belly again.

**Author's Note:**

> From two prompts: one from majestamoniet : Jacob and Bella have a baby (yeah, I'm sure no one saw that one coming) and he/she is in his/her terrible twos, and one from audreyii-fic : And like phone sex, there has been a severe dearth of blowjobs in this fandom. I have my theories on why that is (the dynamic of the J/B relationship, basically) but it's still tragic.


End file.
